Just A Teasing Book

Part 4: The Original Part 1: This Isn't Just a Practice Book.

I stare at the book I hold lazily in my hands, my mouth wide open in an "O" shape, the rest of my face held in a stupefied expression. I shake my head and roll my eyes (for the thirtieth time tonight) with a sigh and turn to the next page. The character in my book, if you couldn't already tell, is being a complete idiot right now. A complete idiot.

No joke.

But why do I even care about this idiotic character, you ask? Because I'm at that agonizing part in the book to where I want to throw it across the room in annoyance but also a hint anticipation for the events that may happen next. But, you know what? I wouldn't do that just in case something happened to that book and I couldn't read it any further. That would just break my precious heart.

Not that anything would happen to the book after a murderous throw at a gentle, inanimate wall.

Of course, because this certain part of the book is so agonizing and detrimental to my well being at times, I'm in my own little world. Actually, it's not my own little world. It's the book's own little world. And because I have been transported into this book's wonderful little world, no one, and I mean NO ONE could get me out of it without completing a tremendous feat.

Don't you just love that point when you're reading a book, but you forget that you're actually reading it or the words at all? You give your heart, soul, vulnerability, and emotion to these tattooed pages that are simply variations of a 26 letter alphabet. It's the best feeling, a magical feeling.

To those people who see us readers in those situations and decide to interrupt us, screw you. Just a tip though, if one of those readers is me, you'll get slapped with the book repeated times, possibly punched.

Unless, we are currently on school grounds. Then, I will probably ignore you for awhile. This "awhile" could go from one day, to four months.  

No, seriously. This guy one time ticked me off in the sixth grade, like really ticked me off. It was in the middle of class at the point where he put me over the edge, though. It didn't go well for him. I ignored him, for four entire months. It was actually quite easy to do.

He got so mad one time in the period of those four months when I refused to even make eye contact with him, that he slammed his hands down on his desk so hard, it seemed as if he almost broke it. School desks are pretty sturdy!

I really did enjoy the cruelty of the punishment and torture I put him through. I seriously was an evil, sadistic eleven year old.

But yes, good books do that to you. Make you a brutal slapper. I mean, I already am one without the help of books, but you get the point. Some readers may be weak, until you interrupt their reading. Then say hello to the Incredible Hulk.

Real readers understand what I'm saying.

I curl my legs under me while sitting on my very comfortable (and soft!) purple chair. This is actually a very uncomfortable position because of the long length of my legs. Sigh, tall people problems.

Then, my butt vibrates. At first, I thought I farted. After five minutes of no god awful smell, the smell my horrifying gas puts off ninety five percent of the time, I realize I'm sitting on my phone. It apparently vibrated.

I sigh and reluctantly place my worn out bookmark in my gigantic book, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. I lean to the left to retrieve my phone from the confinements of my ass. Just kidding, it's in my pocket.